


4 AM Knows All My Secrets

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Established Relationship, M/M, Podfic Welcome, Pre-Negotiated Kink, Somnophilia, fear kink, mild dirty talk, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 00:13:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16006250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: It’s an agreement they have, born out of many factors. Namely, Shane’s propensity for turning in early and Ryan’s opposite nature of staying up absurdly late. Couple those with Ryan’s tendency to edit or research when he should be sleeping, add in a dash of Ryan’s own fear kink and his considerably more active libido, and, well…





	4 AM Knows All My Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> this idea struck me at 5am the other morning and i managed to crank it out pretty fast! first time writing something that resembles somnophilia, so i hope y'all enjoy.
> 
> big thanks to hannah for beta'ing, as always!

Shane shifts into bleary awareness at the creak of his bedroom door. He doesn’t turn his head toward the sound, doesn’t move at all. He’s far too comfortable to bother. It’s been so warm, so he’s sprawled, face down, on his bed completely nude. It leaves him at just the right temperature but he knows if he moves he’ll either overheat or be bum-rushed by cold air. He’s not exactly eager to find out which so he’s content to stay right where he is, even as footsteps draw closer.

He knows it’s Ryan anyway. Not because Shane knows the sound of his footsteps or anything, but because there’s no one else it really could be. Except maybe a burglar, but Shane isn’t overly concerned about that. Again, he’s too comfortable to give anything close to a semblance of a damn.

The bed dips lightly and fingertips trail over the back of Shane’s calf. Ryan’s hand is shaking and his breathing is heavy. He sounds worked up, which isn’t unusual. Shane wants to crack an eye open and check the time, but the sleep sand crusting his lids is too heavy to fight against. If he had to guess, he’d say it’s probably around one or two in the morning, the usual time for Ryan to _finally_ stop editing or researching.

Both of Ryan’s hands curl around Shane’s ankles; his grip is tight and clammy. He’s _definitely_ worked up, then. Shane hides his smile against his pillow and stays still. Vaguely he’s aware of lust picking up in his veins but sleep outweighs it. He’s left feeling floaty, light, under Ryan’s eager hands. His cock doesn’t twitch even as Ryan finally starts to stroke up Shane’s legs, stopping only when he meets the curve of Shane’s ass.

It’s an agreement they have, born out of many factors. Namely, Shane’s propensity for turning in early and Ryan’s opposite nature of staying up absurdly late. Couple those with Ryan’s tendency to edit or research when he should be sleeping, add in a dash of Ryan’s own fear kink and his considerably more active libido, and, well…

What happens is Ryan being very horny at odd hours, when Shane is way too exhausted to do anything about it. And sure, Ryan could _definitely_ jerk off—he’s more than happy to, as Shane has found out, and more than happy to do it under Shane’s watchful eye, too—but this is infinitely more fun. Ryan creeping into the bedroom and running his hands greedily over every inch of Shane’s mostly-dozing body.

Ryan’s hands leave him and Shane lets out a whining sigh, mostly muffled into the pillow. Ryan laughs under his breath and his voice shakes like a threadbare string. He always gets himself so worked up when he does this. Shane would put money on Ryan having been up for the past two or three hours researching new cases for Unsolved, getting himself into a tizzy over the rush of fear and adrenaline.

When Shane is actually conscious enough to help out, it can be pretty hot. He can work Ryan up _more_ , get him downright nonverbal for how strung out he is. Sometimes the fear manifests like a cresting wave, a looming dominance Shane doesn’t often see in Ryan, and it’s a treat whenever that happens.

For now, though, Shane is content to let Ryan do whatever he likes. So he waits, and waits, and _waits_. He slips back into a hazy doze right on the precipice between actual sleep and not quite being awake. His head swims with the ambient noise of his bedroom; he’s not even sure he can hear Ryan’s breathing anymore, and the thought sends a lightning bolt of curiosity through Shane.

Just as he’s about to force himself out of the sleepy fog, he hears the _click_ of the lube being opened. Immediately, he melts into the bed. His whole body warms up as Ryan clambers into the bed and pushes his legs apart. It feels lewd to be spread out like this, even worse when Ryan yanks his hips up so his ass is in the air.

Ryan wastes no time working a finger into Shane’s pliant body. Shane lets out a sigh of relief and can’t find it in himself to tense up or even really react. It feels good, soothing, familiar, and paired with the sleep tugging at him it’s almost like some weird, sexy lullaby. Ryan’s breathing fills the room again, heavier than before, and he lets out a soft groan as he sinks a second finger into Shane alongside the first.

“Oh, babe,” Ryan mutters, the soft utterance sending a thrill down Shane’s spine. “Fuck.”

Two fingers become three and Shane can feel his own breathing speeding up. He’s still not hard and he still hasn’t opened his eyes but his body is thrumming under Ryan’s touch like a well-played guitar. Ryan lays his clean hand at the center of Shane’s back and holds him down, unnecessary but hot all the same. He curls his fingers just right and a moan slips from Shane’s mouth.

Ryan freezes. Shane can hear him swallow and almost speaks to reassure him but thinks better of it. This is Ryan’s rodeo, he’s calling the shots, and sure enough he starts to thrust his fingers again after a beat of silence.

He thrusts harder and deeper and curls his fingers at odd intervals to wring surprised, throaty, unbidden sounds from Shane. They’re working up a sweat; Ryan’s skin is slick where he’s caged between Shane’s legs, and his palm is slipping on Shane’s back. Even the heat is bearable like this, Shane thinks, with Ryan so close and so focused on him.

Shane lets himself drift for a bit. He toes the line between sleeping and not. At one point his thoughts dip into a dream, one where everything that’s happening is pretty much the same except they’re in some musty old house and there’s the distinct blinking of the red recording light across from Shane. The image isn’t a new one, and while Shane wouldn’t exactly call it a fantasy, he can’t say he’d be opposed to having Ryan fuck him in one of the silly haunts they visit. On camera, no less.

Ryan’s fingers slipping from his body bring Shane back to the edge of consciousness. He squirms slightly but settles when Ryan pats his ass, murmurs, “Just a sec,” under his breath. There’s the _click_ of the lube again and then Ryan’s shuddering gasp as he, presumably, works the slick over his cock.

“God, Shane,” Ryan moans softly. He scoots closer and pulls Shane’s cheeks apart with one sticky and one clean hand. Shane’s brow furrows—he’s going to need to shower after this, something he didn’t really consider before Ryan started. “Shane,” Ryan moans again as the head of his cock pushes against the furled rim of Shane’s hole.

The bed creaks as Ryan thrusts his hips forward, never with enough pressure or aim to actually sink inside. Instead, the slick tip glides over Shane’s equally slick asshole and it’s a squelching mess, every brush of skin a tease. Shane hums and arches his back to press his ass against Ryan’s cock.

“Fuck,” Ryan hisses. He peels his sticky hand from Shane’s ass and then he’s guiding his cock in without pause. The mushroom tip pops past the ring of muscle and then he’s sliding in to the hilt.

This time, it’s Shane who stills. It feels as though all the air has been punched from his lungs and he’s finally edging closer to being truly awake. His body twitches and shifts like his alarm’s just gone off, but Ryan either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. Ryan falls forward and braces his hands on either side of Shane’s chest before starting to thrust.

Ryan pushes him into the bed and fucks him mercilessly. The bed hits the wall in perfect rhythm; trapped between the sheets and his stomach, Shane’s cock is starting to get with the program. He moans again and Ryan’s forehead presses against the dip between his shoulder blades.

“Sorry,” Ryan groans.

“Don’t be.” Shane shakes his head. His limbs don’t want to cooperate quite yet, so he stays where he is, pliant and desperate under Ryan.

Ryan kisses the ball of his shoulder. “Didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispers.

Shane snorts but it bubbles up into a moan as Ryan grazes his prostate. He _still_ hasn’t opened his eyes and the darkness makes it almost more compelling, sexier. The haze in his mind is lingering and all he knows is he’s a mess of moans and slick skin. Ryan’s pounding thrusts are turning uneven, jerky; Shane wonders how long Ryan sat out in the living room, keying himself up and nursing a hard-on before finally coming to Shane.

Ryan bites his shoulder this time and sucks hard enough to leave a mark. “Love it when you let me do this,” Ryan hisses against Shane’s skin. “You feel so good around my cock, like this. All mine.”

Shane shudders and clenches around Ryan, and that’s all it takes.

Ryan lets out a strangled grunt and slams his hips forward. His come fills Shane, deep and wet, and leaks out of him as Ryan pulls out and weakly thrusts back in. He collapses against Shane’s back with a heavy sigh. Shane mimics the sound.

Just as suddenly as his arousal spiked, it starts to fade as sleep tugs at Shane once more.

“Want me to get you off?” Ryan says and his words sound far away, distant as Shane sinks deeper. “Shane?”

Shane manages a lazy and loose shrug. He mumbles something that might be actual words, might not. He doesn’t protest when Ryan yanks at his hips again or when Ryan reaches under him to curl his still wet hand around Shane’s half-hard cock.

Shane exhales, content. His cock returns to full hardness quickly but his mind is still drifting. He’s aware of Ryan’s cock softening inside him and come leaking sluggishly out of his hole. He’s keenly in tune with Ryan’s hand on his cock and how Ryan skillfully teases the spot just below the head, the sensitive skin that sends zaps of pleasure across Shane’s body.

His orgasm sneaks up on him. Shane’s mouth drops open and he can feel his body shaking in Ryan’s arms as he comes. He spurts onto the bedsheets and across Ryan’s fingers and his hips fuck into the loose circle of Ryan’s fist for a split second before Shane goes limp again.

He’s sinking into some other dream now, something nonsensical. He’s pretty sure there’s zombies. He can vaguely hear Ryan talking, feels Ryan leave—and Shane shudders as he’s left empty and wet, cold air breezing over his hole—and then feels Ryan return. A lukewarm cloth glides over Shane’s body, between his cheeks and over his stomach. Ryan pushes him out of the way of the wet spot on the bed and there’s a _splat_ as the cloth is tossed aside.

Shane hums as Ryan gathers him into his arms again. The last thing he’s aware of before he drifts off to fight zombies in some beat up super mall, is Ryan’s lips pressed to his forehead.


End file.
